Bedtime Stories
by Lila Blue394
Summary: Mary tells Dean a tale, he then in turns tells Sammy, then Maryann.


**_A/n: _**_ah the tales we weave__._

_**Pairings:** none really, but Mary tells Dean the story, Dean in turn tells Sam, and then MaryAnn._

_**prompt**: Clash of the Titans_

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><p><em>Bedtime Stories/_

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><p>When Dean was just a young boy and the world outside was a big, crazy 'I am going to catch you one day' dream Mary would tell him stories. Stories that she couldn't tell him when John was around, mostly because she was afraid that if John had heard her tell them, he would think she was...eccentric. The thing is her daddy used to tell her these stories, when she was just about Dean's age. She believed them with her whole heart.<p>

Now the stories she would tell Dean were best done in the right setting. It had to be at night just before bedtime, but the best time to do it was during a thunderstorm. Mary was a storyteller she could spin a story for you and have you sitting at her feet mouth and ears wide open sucking in every detail. Waiting for the end, but fearing it because you just wanted to hear her tell her tale. A four year old Dean was no different; every thunder storm had him waiting in anticipation.

So tonight was the night to tell him the tale she had been waiting for. John was gone stormed off from another fight and Mary needed the distraction. But it was more than that this was a story about his history. One she was very proud of for some reason, one she still held very close to her heart, one she still believed in. She tucked Dean under his covers his back pressed against his pillows his face alight with eagerness his green eyes shinning and ready to hear the story he had been waiting on. She had been promising him for a while now to tell this particular story, but she always put it off. She sat next to him cuddled up with him on his tiny bed and spun her tale of a hero that defied the gods and saved a city.

"He just wanted to be a man, a man who worked for the people to save them from the wrath of the Gods. He wound up not only saving the city of Argos and its beautiful princess, but the Gods themselves." Mary smiled down at her son, her boy, her angel. Smiled down into his awe filled face.

"Dean you should always be proud of who you are, always no matter what comes your way. You should be proud because the blood from this great hero, this demigod runs through your veins. We are the children of Perseus."

Over the years Dean held tight to that story he no longer believed in thinking if he truly was the child of a demigod or grandchild; however; it worked, then his mother wouldn't have died. His dad wouldn't have become the rage fueled, revenge driven man who he is today. But if Dean would just read the tales his mother used to tell him, then he would know that's exactly how they happen, but that is neither here nor there. What is is that he has his mother's ability to spin tales to make them seem real and alive. Coloring them just right for his baby brother who still believed.

His mother would be proud if she could see him now the art of storytelling still ran strong through their veins. But where Mary had to have the right setting to spin her tales Dean could do it anywhere. But, like his mother he liked to do it at night just before bedtime during a thunderstorm when it was just him and Sammy. So Sam cuddled up on the queen size motel bed. His back pressed against the thin pillows and just as the first strikes of lightning hit, Dean began his tale. His timing like always was excellent just as Perseus took on the kraken and defeated Hades, thunder boomed rattling the pictures on the walls and lighting struck lighting up the room giving it eerie shadows. Sam jumped and just held on that much tighter to his brother.

"He just wanted to be a man," He told Sam now, "a man who was demigod, but he would do all that was asked as a man not god."Is it true Dean are we family?"

"It's what momma used to tell me." Times like these were the only time Dean would speak of Mary it hurt too much most days, but his brother needed to hear the tale and he was the only one that could do it.

But as the years passed a boy became a man that just didn't believe in the tales his mother used to tell him, even when as a young man he met a girl that he would eventually give his heart to when, she had already lost hers to him and they would have their own precocious child. With her Uncle Sammy's brown unruly hair, her momma's nose and both of their stubbornness combined into a green-eyed little girl with her own thoughts on the world. Dean still couldn't bring himself to believe. But he still could do honor to his mother and spin for his own child the stories she used to tell him.

And just like Sam and him before, his daughter, his MaryAnn sat on her bed her frog encased in her arms. As she listened spellbound as her father weaved a tale of a man (by now he was just a man to Dean, loosing his demigod status) that defied the will of the gods. All to save a town and its beautiful princess. And just like when he told it to his baby brother it was done at night during a thunderstorm. He began his story just as the rain pelted her window and thunder rumbled in the distance lightning striking in the clouds.

Just as the thunder boomed outside her window and the lightning strikes the rain pouring down in torrents the great hero Perseus riding the beast Pegasus defeated the kraken with the head of Medusa.

"Did he marry the princess daddy?"

"Of course he did that's what heroes do after all." He smiled down at her normally she would giggle at that, but he could see the story playing in her mind. Just like he had done and Sam to.


End file.
